Well, thanks to the sterling work of Sony's marketing department, the opening-night showing of the first new Ghostbusters cinematic content in twenty seven years (for which the tickets went on sale about a month ago) was less than half full. The audience in attendance didn't seem too phased by this, but the awkward shuffling of the three fully-suited cosplayers invited by the cinema to meet-and-greet at the front of the auditorium during the pre-trailer ads spoke volumes.
Yes, we finally get to see Paul Feig's XX-chromosomed interpretation of Ghostbusters; 60% reboot, 40% flat-remake. Leaving aside the aforementioned lacklustre publicity and the ferocious number of online misogynists entitled fanboys it's attracted, the film has its work cut out long before the BBFC card. Because if you can't top everybody's favourite movie, should you even try?
Well, Ghostbusters takes about half an hour before it feels comfortable doing its own thing, and even after that it's constantly referencing beats and tropes from the 1984 original. The plot-mechanics around the increased paranormal occurrences and the central villain are sketchy at best, feeble at worst; Cameos from the legacy-cast are shoehorned in to the point where they're practically spot-lit; the pop-soundtrack is intrusive and repetitive in the number of cover-versions and remixes of the song we all know; there's a McCarthy-sized gap between some of the scripted dialogue and the improvised lines; the sequel-alarm goes off far earlier than it should, and there's a point shortly before the climax where writers Paul Feig and Katie Dippold clearly didn't know how to wrap up the neon carnage they'd created in Times Square...
Also, the film's magnificent. Quite, quite magnificent. Because everything listed above doesn't matter when you're having this much fun. Kristen Wiig, Melissa McCarthy, Kate McKinnon and Leslie Jones gel perfectly, and while the screenplay is anxious to get things moving at a brisk pace, they each have a lot to bring to the party (McKinnon and Jones pretty much steal the show, in fact. As they're relatively unknown to UK audiences, it's easier to buy into their characters*1). Chris Hemsworth's good fun as the dumb-blonde receptionist, but just as it feels like that joke's wearing thin, Feig finds a way to develop his character, too (well, a little).
Even in 2D the film is visually intense and it's deafening as soon as the action starts. As noted, there's very little in the way of downtime, but the pacing is fairly constant for all that. Is it a vehicle for SNL performers to riff off each other and indulge in puerile slapstick? Absolutely, as was the 1984 flick. While the methodology is suitably different, Feig captures the tone of the first movie and builds on it with the best of his own style.
And be warned: it's a 12A in the UK so if your kids are under ten, they may get a little freaked out. Although not as freaked out as I was by the library-ghost back in the day.
That's good though, right?
Will Ghostbusters 2016 be as iconic as its 1984 counterpart? No.
Does Ghostbusters 2016need to be as iconic? Not at all.
The lightning-in-a-bottle of the original couldn't be recaptured by the same writers, director and cast five years later, so why would anyone expect a completely new gang to pull off the impossible more than quarter of a century after that?
But I'm happy to say that the new Ghostbusters is funny, exciting, gloriously self-indulgent and had everyone leaving the cinema grinning. And when it comes to a Summer-movie, I can't ask for more than that...
Depends on how/why, but I'll be happy to discuss it at length with you over a pint.
Didn't hear one, but most of the action sequences are pretty much white-noise, to be fair.
Level 2: There could well be some direct links with voice-work in various SW projects (and there are certainly a few in behind the scenes departments), but let's go for Leslie Jones who plays Patty in this, and also appeared in 1998's Wrongfully Accused, as did Michael 'Nuvo Vindi' York.
Yes, I just reminded you that Nuvo Vindi is canon, didn't I?
#NotEvenSorry
#YeaYeaYeaYeaYEAYEAYEAYEAH!
*1 Wiig and McCarthy pretty much play the versions of themselves you've seen before, and while it works for this film, you also can't help but remember all the other times they've done that.
DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organisations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.
Well, thanks a bunch. This is how Karma repays me for daring to venture out of my comfort-zone and take a punt on a movie which wouldn't normally appeal. I can't remember the last time I was patronised for so long and with such brutal, cinematic efficiency. Thea Sharrock's screen adaptation of Jojo Moyes' weepy-bestseller could only be more twee if the cast were replaced by kittens wearing unicorn costumes, nibbling on cupcakes while The Archers played in the background.
The story of the soulful, burgeoning romance between Will Traynor, a quadriplegic former business-whizz and Louisa Clark, his pro-level Ditzy™ hired-companion is headed up by Emilia Clarke, who deftly weaves between giving me motion-sickness by acting entirely with her eyebrows, and inducing a migraine with a succession of garish outfits*1, the likes of which bellow "Look at how UNIQUE I am!!" before she's even walked around the corner. Her simpering performance is further hampered by a screenplay which has the audacity to stop and explain itself every ten minutes, and a one-dimensional supporting cast spouting vacuous clichés instead of dialogue.
Perhaps ironically, the only person to escape more or less unscathed here is Sam Claflin, as the wheelchair-bound Will, struggling to come to terms with disability two years after a road-accident, despite having the best facilities and physical support that money can buy. Claflin is on very solid form here, and certainly believes he's in a far better film. This helps his performance no end, but does nothing for his co-stars. Sadly, the film isn't really interested in the only interesting character it has, and we can only imagine the turmoil he's been going through (by which I mean that we can only imagine this because it's explained, but not really shown).
Maybe I expected a film which would explore the psychology of disability for a mainstream audience. But this isn't a film about Will. This is a film about Lou, who manages to end her journey every bit as directionless and self-absorbed as she began it. If this whole thing is a post-modern experiment of social juxtaposition, intended to demonstrate to an able-bodied audience what it's like to be endlessly condescended to, then well done.
Thanks, Karma.
In the next twenty four hours I'll be sitting watching three X-Men movies back to back, and I'm going to gleefully savour every. single. punch.
Banging yourself over the head with a tin tray for an hour and a half.
This is a DVD, even for its target audience.
If you're in its target audience, I imagine it does, yes.
No.
Yes.
No.
Level 2: Emilia Clarke is in Game of Thrones, of course*2, along with Gwendoline 'Phasma' Christie. Oh, that the bodycount was anywhere near as high in this film...
*1 The film makes a point of repeatedly telling the audience how hard-up Clarke's working class family is, and that she's only taking the job to support them. This, despite her having costume-change for every single scene and never wearing the same item of clothing twice. Given that the fusty village she lives in is populated by people who wear beige crimplene as a fashion statement, it's staggering to think how much of her family's much-needed money she's spending on looking like An Australian's Nightmare™. Why do so many films automatically translate "quirky" as "annoying"?
*2 And is, ironically, one of the few things I enjoyed about the episodes of GoT I managed to get through.
DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organisations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.
Establishment-setup-reveal-punchline. Imagine, if you will, taking a recurring sketch from a weekly comedy show. For example, Lou and Andy from Little Britain. The sketch (pretty much any of them) is indeed funny in isolation, but it is formulaic. Establishment-setup-reveal-punchline. And that's fine, because that's how comedy works. Now imagine taking the Lou and Andy sketch from each of the eighteen series-episodes of Little Britain and playing them in continuous succession. Establishment-setup-reveal-punchline. Rinse and repeat.
That's why I gave up on the novel of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. A quiet scene would be eloquently and painstakingly set up, following which the arrival of a flesh-hungry ghoul would cause a catastrophic breakdown in etiquette and decorum as we're shown that the elegant young heroines of the piece are actually trained and efficient zombie killers! Funny the first time, smirk-inducing the second. Still happening fifty pages in? Forget it.
The only reason I mention this is that I'd feared the cinematic adaptation would fall into the same trap (and logically, why wouldn't it?). After all, a novel which was written in all earnestness but which was received largely as a quirky oddity isn't necessarily going to translate well to the screen. There are already more than enough iffy zombie movies, and the ones which also employ humour in their arsenal are worse than most. So as it turns out, the "hahaa it's funny because they've got swords and they're cutting zombies heads off at a ball!" motif actually only accounts for the first thirty minutes or so of the film. Half an hour in which an actual story is desperately struggling to break through every cliché you're expecting from the film. Now obviously much of this comes from the fact that Pride and Prejudice is the primary source-material for the story, so the stilted, formalities of the original have to play a large part, and they have to be broken by the zombie-element. But it's still like watching the same sketch five times.
Then after a while, the forced juxtaposition of narrative styles relaxes and director Burr Steers is able to bring us something more like the film that the zombie-fans are wanting to see. While the primary undead-outbreak has already long-since occurred at the start of the film and is sketched in fairly loosely in an opening-title sequence, the main plot centres around a resurgence which threatens to over-run the surviving population of ninteenth-century England. Truth be told, even when the film actually gets going, the plot is still relatively loose, relying more on style and setpieces to do its work.
Thankfully, the whole thing is shored up with a very competent cast, headed marvellously by Lily James and Sam Riley as Elizabeth Bennett and Mr Darcy, respectively. Younger players fill most of the main roles, and the film employs Charles Dance and Lena Heady to stand at the back and bring a bit of dramatic gravity to proceedings (although thankfully with a minimum of scenery-chewing). I should also mention how much I enjoyed Matt Smith as Mr Collins the Parson. It seems odd that in a film which relies so much on comedy, he's the only performer who seems to be able to deliver it fully.
Fans of Jane Austen will see this as a parodic curiosity, and fans of George Romero will doubtless feel the same way. Pride and Prejudice and Zombies is ultimately its own worst enemy, and can't break free of one genre to adequately serve the other.
The film becomes a lot of fun, but can't take its tongue out of its cheek long enough to convince the audience it has anything worth saying…
Maybe it's the nature of the original source material, but even the addition of the undead doesn't make this particularly cinematic, no.
Probably, but only just.
No, but it was never really meant to be.
Nope.
Not that I heard.
Level 2: P+P+Z stars that Charles Dance and that Lena Heady, both of whom appear in that Game of Thrones alongside that Gwendoline 'Phasma' Christie.
DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organisations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.
Child 44 Cert: 15 / 137 mins / Dir. Daniel Espinosa / Trailer
Now, I haven't seen Child, Child 2, Child 3, Child 4, Child 5… [ I should point out at this juncture that as a dyed-in-the-wool devotee of Lee & Herring, I will never tire of this joke. Never, I tell you.] … Child 42 or Child 43, so I had a fair bit of catching up to do in the first ten minutes. Luckily, the film makes little-to-no mention of previous installments, so this should be ideal for newbies to the franchise.
Stalinist Russia, 1953, and a series of child-deaths determined by the authorities to be 'accidents' bear all the hallmarks of a serial killer. MGB agent Leo Demidov is determined to unravel the case, but finds his progress hindered by his superiors, colleagues and even those he thought of as friends. Because how do you track down a killer when "there can be no murder in Paradise"..?
The film's setting is its unique selling point, but it the darkness of the era and that of the story never seem to gel the way you know they should. Not especially cinematic in either tone or form, Child 44 feels like a solid four-hour TV drama which has been compacted for a single big-screen outing, often at the expense of the narrative-flow. The film does a fantastic job of following the 'show, don't tell' ethos, resulting in some solid character building for Hardy's Leo, but things still feel rushed, even at two-and-a-quarter-hours. Noomi Rapace and Tom Hardy are reliable as always, but are crying out for stronger scripting and more focussed direction. In fact, it feels like Paddy Considine is the only member of the cast really grabbing the dramatic bull by its horns, and he outshines everyone with the momentum he brings to the film.
A major stumbling block (for me, at least) is that stretches of dialogue feel casual to the point of being improvised (and if they're not improvised, that's even more of a problem). This results in 21st century, English speech-patterns inserted into a 1950s Russian setting. Not quite as jarring as the way Julian Fellowes writes characters in Downton Abbey saying "…as if", but on the same page, certainly. The assortment of accents are distracting enough*1 without being pulled out of the story by the script itself. The worst offender in this department is Tom Hardy's line: "Obviously we are all guilty by association, irregardless." You can have irrespective, or you can have regardless. But 'irregardless' isn't a real word. How did this make it into the final edit?
A great story let down by dodgy accents, mumbled, off-the-cuff dialogue, atrocious shaky-cam and a rushed approach to storytelling, Child 44 is thoroughly intriguing but fails to live up to its full potential.
…not really.
Probably a rental; I doubt you'll get more than a couple of watches out of it.
With the best will in the world, no.
Narratively, yes. Dramatically, no.
I won't.
Well, who makes a film featuring a full-on battle scene in the first ten minutes and doesn't insert a Wilhelm Scream? The guy who hires sound-designer Christopher Assells, that's who…
Gary Oldman and Tom Hardy are both Nolan-era Batmanalumni of course, as is Liam 'Qui-Gon' Neeson.
^^ That's a strong four, but a four nonetheless.
*1 Although I'm also aware that Noomi Rapace and Vincent Cassel both speak heavily accented English to begin with, so maybe giving fake Russian accents to the cast puts everyone on the same handicap, so to speak? That said, Child 44 contains another small role for Charle Dance, illustrating that he either can't do All The Accents, or just chooses not to.
DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organisations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.
You know when you read a human-interest type story or article, and somewhere near the bottom there'll be a line saying "negotiations have opened over the film-rights to the story", and you mentally picture an over-excited lawyer on the phone to his mum with one or both of them saying "Ooh! Perhaps you'll/I'll be played by Ryan Reynolds in the movie!" and you instantly dismiss that thought, not because the conversation wouldn't happen but because that's just not a feasible casting choice for a gentle, Sunday afternoon drama..?
Well, Woman In Gold stars Ryan Reynolds as fresh-face lawyer, in the true story of Maria Altman, a Jewish refugee who managed to flee Austria during the Second World War, and their legal campaign to reclaim Gustav Klimt's iconic Portrait of Adele Bloch-Bauer, when documentation is unearthed revealing that the Austrian State Gallery acquired the painting in terms which voided the original intent of the owner's will.
If you think that sounds more like an earnest courtroom drama than a film about art, then you'd be partially correct. The film spends around two thirds of its running-time in the early twenty-first century, following Maria (Helen Mirren)'s legal proceedings with her lawyer, Randol Schoenberg*1, complete with research-montages full of brow-rubbing and photocopiers with green scanner-lights. The other third of the film is an ongoing flashback-thread, showing Maria's home-life in Vienna as a little girl with her aunt (Adele from the painting) and during the war as a young woman, up to and including her escape to the USA as a refugee.
I think it's fair to say that the period-pieces are far more engaging than the modern ones, and the story of the painting is far more interesting than the one of the legal battle surrounding it, even though the strands rely on each other fully. The cast in the earlier timeline were largely unknown to me (and the ones I did recognise, I recognised as 'character' actors) so it was easier to believe in that part of the story. Because as credible as they both are in this, you never forget that you're watching Helen Mirren and Ryan Reyolds. They're both 'good', but the film should really be about the painting, not the performers, and I think a slightly less starry level of casting would have helped this (although obviously the names help put bums on seats, which is the other important thing).
Woman In Gold has some stretches of absolute, undiluted brilliance (in both of its timelines); moments which make you glad you've gone to watch the film in a cinema; moments in which the massive screen concentrates and amplifies the emotion of the story and the history of the artwork. But these are punctuated by some of the most cliched and perfunctory scenes you've witnessed outside of a Channel5 made-for-TV movie. The film doggedly hangs on to its 'will the underdog succeed in winning the battle?' methodology, which - even if the viewer is unfamiliar with the story of the painting - is redundant to the point of insulting the audience. SPOILER: Yes, they win. It's a true story. People don't make films of this sort of thing unless they win. Although to be fair, people don't make films of fictional cases like this unless they win, either.
But the great moments outweigh the bad ones and make Woman In Gold well worth watching. It's certainly changed the way I'll look at the painting, and that's the important thing, i think.
With the best will in the world, probably not.
It's a sort of "£5 on DVD" type film. You might watch it more than once, but you won't watch it repeatedly.
Sadly not.
Despite battling with its own screenplay, it does.
Nope.
There isn't. Surprisingly.
Helen Mirren voiced Deep Thought in 2005's Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy film, a film which also starred Warwick 'Wicket' Davis.
*1 I wanted to say 'her lawyer and nephew' there, but I'm fairly certain he's not her nephew. They're definitely related, but in such a convoluted way that the film doesn't actually put a name on the connection. Anyway, my bad for not paying attention to that part of the exposition at the start of the film.
DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organisations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.
